No Way Out (But Down)
by starsandwristrockets
Summary: [Oneshot] All the final prayers of a dying body without a single saint to spare.


_WARNING: This work depicts themes of abuse and suicidal ideation. Please mind your triggers. Season 3 spoilers ahead._

_Titled after the song "listen before i go" by Billie Eilish._

* * *

If it is the cold the shadow wants, he will blast the A.C. If it is the thrill the shadow wants, he will rev the Camaro's engine like an angry bull threatening to storm. If it is the girl the shadow wants, it is the girl he will get.

It helps if he thinks of it like taxidermy; like this is what it means to keep alive a dead body.

Soon enough, he knows, this will all be over, and he'll be nothing more than another head nailed to the wall.

xxx

The night Bernadette dumped me, we hopped the fence into the neighbor's yard, slid fully clothed into their pool and hid in an alcove out of sight. She wasn't a strong runner; said it was easier to hide someplace they'd never look than risk being chased down.

Wet lashes tangled together, milky skin illuminated by flashes of red and blue. She was too pretty for this place and she knew it, had shared with me her dreams of skipping town, heading south and making it big in the City of Angels.

I shouldn't have been surprised. Everyone left, it was only a matter of when.

"Billy—" she whispered through the night, through the screams and the sirens next door, but there was nothing more to say between us.

I stuck my head under, let myself be pulled all the way down, down, down.

Maybe one of these days I would find out what it meant to be the brick and not the windowpane.

Maybe one of these days I would have too much to drink and sink to the floor of the ocean, rest my joints and never come back up for air.

Maybe one of these days I would find a way to make it out of this mess, but it was not supposed to happen like this.

No, never like this.

xxx

It is sweltering in the wreckage and the flame.

Sweltering like a cloudless day in August, like the sand scalding the soles of his feet on a beach someplace he is sure to never see again.

He wishes he could stay here, but the shadow jerks his body out of the car and onto the pavement, reminds him that this fight isn't over yet.

xxx

The backseat of my Camaro was hot as hell, the windows long steamed over, but by then it was nothing new.

Some girl, faceless and beautiful, gasped my name, her fingers tangled in my hair, her ribcage alive and slick with sweat beneath my hands.

I slid a palm further up her chest, trailed kisses down her neck to where my tongue met something metallic.

_"God,"_ she sighed, and I couldn't help but wonder what He must've thought of her then; of her legs around my waist with that cross around her neck, of her reaching to hold the front of my jeans as she held His name in her mouth.

Hell, I couldn't help but wonder what He must've thought of me for liking it.

Maybe we'd burn for this, but maybe I didn't care.

Maybe, come Sunday, she'd beg for absolution, but maybe that necklace meant more to me than it ever had to her.

Either way, I never planned to see her again.

xxx

The sister. She has the girl.

God, why does she have the girl? Get her away from here.

God, are you even listening? Were you ever even listening?

The black ice raging in his veins reminds him of that answer, but the patron pendant around his neck burns a hole over his heart nonetheless.

His feet carry him toward her—toward them—and she calls out his name like a prayer, but he's finding it harder and harder to remember hers. Not that it makes any difference now.

xxx

I never meant to hurt Max all the ways I did, but I needed her to be strong. Strong enough to stay. All the cracks in her marble were nothing but a bad side effect. Everyone knows a bone heals sturdier where it breaks.

I never meant to hurt Max all the ways I did, never meant to push too hard or squeeze her wrist too tight, and I never apologized either. Not once. Never felt sorry when I heard her crying at night on the other side of the wall, or caught her in the bathroom using her mother's makeup to cover the bruises.

I never meant to hurt Max all the ways I did, but every time she froze her tears into a glare of ice, every time I noticed her tuning out my father's voice, every time she proved herself numbing to the pain, I knew we were better off this way.

xxx

The shadow knows he is stronger, knows the girl is weak, knows the quickest way to get to her is to take down anything that stands in the way.

He heaves the girl's limp body over his shoulder. Don't worry, he thinks, we are going home.

xxx

I found the devil in the face of my father. I have knelt at his feet and begged for his dominion.

Not many can say the same.

If that house was Hell, I'd been dead a while. If that house was Hell, then there was no way out. I should've stopped trying.

But I was young. I was stupid.

Even Max's screams for Satan's mercy faded after a while. Still, she didn't belong in a place like this, and the only difference between her and my mother was that she never realized it.

Once the devil took his tithe, she'd ask if I was okay. I'd snap, tell her to leave me alone, so she'd pull me to my feet, carry me to the bathroom, help clean out my cuts.

My eyebrow gushed. Max rolled up her sleeves and held pressure. My gaze focused in on the long bruises around her wrist, the storm of reds and blues stirring so beautifully under her skin it was no wonder we made martyrs out of girls like her.

xxx

He lays the girl where the shadow wants her. Her eyes flutter behind their lids as she begins to wake, but he needs her still. It is her time to rest.

There is no reason to be afraid. It will be over soon enough for the both of them.

xxx

I found myself resurrected in the Camaro's passenger seat. We flew down a long and winding farm road, and red hair whipped in the air of the open windows.

Max's knuckles were tight around the steering wheel, her skin cast blue from the light of the dashboard, her jaw set as threw a nasty glance at me.

She was too powerful for this place and I hoped she knew it. Beautiful is dangerous; someone should've warned her.

A car passed down the other side of the road, its headlights blinding. I squeezed my eyes shut, willed away the throbbing headache.

"We'll be home soon," she said, but she didn't mean it. We pulled into Hell's driveway instead. She cut the engine, circled the car to help me out, but I'd already pushed open the door, stumbled out onto the asphalt.

She tossed my arm around her shoulder, hoisted me up by the waist, and carried me like a crutch all the way to bed.

I collapsed into my pillows, and she tugged the boots from my feet. My sheets felt like heaven, and someone should've let her know it would be okay. We all had our vices, our own methods to escape.

But she was too young to have to deal with this shit. Someone should've protected her.

"You're a mess. Sleep it off."

"Max."

I grabbed her wrist, and even though I gentle this time with the fragile flesh under my fingertips, she stiffened. I held on. I needed her to listen.

"We have to pray… We have to pray before bed."

"Since when do you pray, Billy?"

"My mom—she'll be upset if we forget."

The way she looked at me then was a kink in her new armor. Her face reset, righted itself. She yanked her arm back, flicked off the light on her way out.

Maybe we would've been better off if she quit stepping in to save me, and maybe we both knew it.

xxx

A scream rips its way up his throat. Every muscle seizes in time with each new explosion. The shadow is fury inside him.

He knows pain, but not like this.

No, never like this.

The girl tries to slip away, but he is faster, stronger. He tugs her back by the ankle, pins her to the floor.

This way. Home is this way.

xxx

"You have any plans after high school?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just wondering… Jeez."

"Why? You headed someplace nice?"

"I've been considering Grand Rapids."

"Grand Rapids. Where the hell is that?"

"Michigan, dumbass."

"I'm not from around here, dumbass."

"Well, you've been here long enough. Ever gonna get your license plates changed?"

"Don't plan on needing to."

"You're moving back?"

"Maybe. Depends."

"On what?"

"On a couple things."

"Is it only you? Or is your whole family going?"

"Might convince my little sister to get the hell outta here."

"You got someone you could stay with?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just wondering. Thought maybe your mom was still there."

"Thought maybe someone would've taught you when to shut up by now."

xxx

_Happy._

The word echoes in his ears. The girl underneath him, her lashes tanged by tears, her skin illuminated by flashes of red and blue, lays a hand on his cheek. His eyes sink shut.

What is left of him fights to remember.

_You were happy._

xxx

It was a sweltering, cloudless day in August, and the sand scalded the soles of my feet as I ran for the beach blanket where my mother lay, sprawled out under the sun with a paperback. I spread out beside her.

The heat made my eyelids heavy, sucked the saltwater from my skin.

My mother asked if I was ready to go home. My mother assured that I could rest in the car.

I shook my head. I wanted to stay there until my skin was golden and pruned and felt like leather, but my father would never have it, so we packed our things and climbed into the car.

It was warm there, too. She let me pick the radio station, and I nodded to sleep in the backseat as she sang along, the sound of her voice like the lullaby of a fallen angel.

We were happy, and then we weren't. People don't want to believe mothers can leave, and then they do.

xxx

He had always been his father's son, whether he liked it or not. He had always thought maybe one of these days he'd take after his mother and find a way out of this mess, but it was not supposed to happen like this.

No, never like this.

It helped if he thought of it like taxidermy. If he let it punch through his chest, hollow out everything he has left, then he could finally be nothing more than another head nailed to the wall.

xxx

I had a babysitter when I was a kid. She was beautiful, and so much more.

Beautiful is dangerous, she taught me early. Best to crucify them first.

Is it my turn now? Am I getting what I deserve? Or have I been hanging in repent for a while?

No. No, I am still here.

I am still here.

I'm still…

I'm...

xxx

His name is in the sister's mouth again, a shrill cry in the distance. He wants to ask for hers. He wants to ask if she can get his mother.

She has seen him at his worst, but she shouldn't have to see him like this.

Someone should have gotten her out. Someone should have saved her by now.

He is sorry it couldn't have been sooner. He is sorry it couldn't have been him.

xxx

I never meant to hurt Max all the ways I did.

I never meant, never asked, to be here, but I carried that blame regardless. There was no use in arguing it, not with my father, not unless I wanted to get hit.

I tried to storm out, knowing I'd pay for it later. Susan called for me to bring Max along and the two of us didn't even pretend not to be pissed.

In the car, I floored the gas, lit myself a cigarette.

"I'm dropping you at the arcade."

"I don't have any quarters."

"Not my problem."

"I want to go to the beach."

This is what it meant to be the brick and not the window pane.

Her voice was thick with thunder and resentment. She had learned so much from me, there was no use in arguing my fault with her, either.

Maybe if I'd been a little smarter, Max and I wouldn't have wound up here, or in each other's lives at all, and maybe the world would've been better off for it.

Maybe one of these days I'd have too much to drink and wrap my car around a telephone pole, but maybe God would never be so graceful.

xxx

Goddamn, it would be nice if he didn't have to leave her here like this, nice if someone would've told her he had wanted to go to the beach too, and they could be home by now, they could be so far away from here, but it is his turn to leave, his turn to rest, whether or not he goes alone. He wishes she'd carry him to bed, he wishes she'd drop him in his sheets and tug the boots from his feet, but she doesn't. She kneels at his side and she barters and she begs, but it is useless because tonight God rests His eyes and wearing his mother's old pendant never counted for shit and praying before bed never would've made any difference and someone should tell her. Someone should let her know, and he is sorry it cannot be him, that there are over ten thousand saints and not a single one has been spared to save them.


End file.
